


Fade to Black

by sidewinder



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Force Ghosts, M/M, Reunions, ToT: Chocolate Box, Trick or Treat 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-24 15:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8377441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidewinder/pseuds/sidewinder
Summary: My future reveals itself before me as it never has before—not as an elusive, cloudy thing in the distance but crystalline and clear.And also...brief.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nan/gifts).



> This story references events and dialog from "The Phantom Menace" and "A New Hope", and character deaths as occurred in those films.

"It's too late." _I'm sorry, Obi-Wan._

"No!" _I can't lose you! You've got to hold on, I'll get help, I'll—_

 _—too late_. "Obi-Wan, promise...promise me you'll train the boy..." _You won't lose me. I'll always be with you._

"Yes, Master." _If you promise me we'll be together again, someday. Or else I don't think I can bear this._

"He is the Chosen One..." _I promise, padawan. Always...my love..._ "...he will...bring balance..." _I will be with you, and I will wait for you..._ "...train him..."

*

My thoughts keep going back to that moment, as they have for some time now. As we approach the Death Star and I pass the time in a light meditative trance, I begin to understand why. My future reveals itself before me as it never has before—not as an elusive, cloudy thing in the distance but crystalline and clear.

And also...brief.

I can feel it in my bones, and in the Force all around me. It is almost time. Time to move on.

Time to die.

I smile at that. Then I notice Luke giving me a peculiar glance and so I revert to a more somber expression, one more befitting an ever-calm, reserved Jedi knight. I have to leave the boy with the right impression, after all; can't have him beginning to wonder if I really _am_ just a daft old fool, a hermit gone mad from the desert sun and isolation.

Of course I've wondered the same thing about myself enough times. Perhaps I am a trifle mad, but who wouldn't be, after witnessing the things I've seen?

Still, part of me is sad to realize this is the end. There's so much left unfinished. I've only just begun to teach the boy, andx I thought I would have far more time to tell him all that he needs to know. I hope it has been sufficient, but perhaps it is better this way, leaving him to discover things on his own instead of filling his head with too many of the old Jedi teachings.

Look at what good those teachings did us, years before.

I wonder what will lie beyond, whether he'll be waiting for me as he promised so long ago. I haven't felt even the ghost of his presence in a very long time, an absence that has troubled me many days and nights. But the Force itself has become weakened and fouled, thanks to Vader and the Emperor, and I have reasoned that must be why I no longer sense him, or any of the others anymore.

I suppose I will find out soon enough.

*

"Your powers are weak, old man."

I'd laugh at that, were I not rather busy at the moment staying alive. Weak? Compared to the old days, my youth, assuredly. I remember a time when I could literally fly. I miss that agility and oneness with the Force. Yet Vader, do you realize how weak you are as well, compared to the glorious young man I once thought I knew?

We are all weak, now. Without the Jedi, with just your Dark ways, the entire galaxy is weakened, ill, suffering.

But right in this instant, I still feel stronger than I have in years. Fate is calling to me—I can see it before me and I see that this is right, this is the first step toward healing everything that has gone wrong. The first step toward the 'Balance' of the old prophecy, to a new beginning for us all.

"You can't win, Darth. If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine."

 _Where did_ ** _that_** _come from?_ I wonder to myself. Well, it sounded good enough, and I can sense my words have confused him a bit, which is to my advantage. I only need this battle to last a little longer...long enough to allow Luke and the others time to get out of here.

Soon enough I can sense them outside—Solo and the princess eager to leave, Luke watching me, and the Stormtroopers just standing there, those dimwitted, brainwashed soldiers too confused by what they are seeing to do anything.

Enough of this; I have distracted Vader and I am growing too tired to continue. I simply stop fighting. I pull the Force into me, let it fill me with peace.

Then I let go completely.

_"NO!"_

I hear Luke's scream and I am dimly aware of the irony of the moment. His scream so much like my own many years before. But it all seems suddenly distant and unimportant...

The world slowly comes back into focus around me. I see Luke still standing there, staring at the spot where my cloak now lays discarded and empty on the floor.

 _He's going to get them all killed if he just keeps standing there!_ "Run, Luke!" I scream before realizing he won't hear me now. But then he jerks his head and looks about as if he _did_ hear, and then he is off with the others, making their escape.

I know they'll make it, and I am satisfied that I played my part. Still, I can feel the grief in Luke's mind, which I know will grow worse once the adrenaline of the fight has faded.

"It's out of my hands now," I sigh, even as I am rather pleased to notice I still _have_ hands...and a body...even as Vader kicks at  my cloak left behind on the floor. I sense his confusion and outrage at being denied the killing blow.

"Old trick, or have you forgotten already? Been so long since you've seen a Jedi die?" I chuckle at him. When the purge began, the knowledge had been passed down to all who could hear it in time—the ancient secret of how to shed one's body entirely and pass into the Force, leaving no remnants—no corpse for desecration and display; no cells for cloning, should the Emperor decide to resurrect that old horror.

Vader tilts his head, as if he's caught a whisper of my voice, then he seems to dismiss it and move on.

So this is it. I'm dead. And I'm still here in some form or fashion. I don't particularly _feel_ different—a little lighter, perhaps, my old joints not protesting movement as they had begun to in recent years. I stand here and watch the stormtroppers rushing about around me—through me, even, which is disconcerting but I suppose I'll get used to it in time.

I bend down and look at my clothes, lying on the ground. I reach out and, hesitantly, touch the cloak, not sure what to expect. It feels impossibly solid, hard as rock at first. But pushing a little a harder at it, I find my hand passes right through it, down through the steel floor. The cloak, itself, does not move at all.

Curious. This will take some time to figure out.

I'd had no idea what to expect. Not even the Jedi have a clue about life after death, except to say that there _is_ no death, which clearly is a load of Bantha poodoo. I'm dead, there's no denying that, and yes there is the Force, I can still feel it, but what else is there? Will I have to simply discover that with time?

If so, then I will, for clearly time will not be the issue it once was for me now. The thing that bothers me slightly, as I spend a few more minutes testing out the solidity of my form, unnoticed by passing stormtroopers and droids, is that he's not present. I'd always imagined he'd be here right at the end to meet me, explain it all, give me the comfort of his companionship once again.

"Well, Qui-Gon, where are you?" I see no harm in asking 'aloud', through my voice and through the Force around me. "Or have you forgotten your promise?"

A ripple through the Force answers me almost immediately. I feel it concentrating in a spot somewhere behind me and I whirl around, my breath catching at the sight before me.

"I have not forgotten, Obi-Wan. Only wondered if you still wished me to hold to it."

"Master..." By the ancient gods! The image of him carried in my mind for so long is such a pale shadow of the man before me now. He is all I can see, all I can feel. I want to rush into his arms, to rest my head against his chest and feel his embrace, let it ease away the pain of too many years alone. Yet something holds me back—Qui-Gon's words, the guarded look in his eyes. So I take only one cautious step closer to him. "Why would I not? I have waited for this moment for over half my life."

"You could hate me for my foolishness, my mistakes. Mistakes which have cost us all so much..." His eyes reveal his pain; guilt and sorrow are etched on his face. It is a look I have never seen on his face before; not my master, not my always calm and serene Qui-Gon. "There was a time when you cursed my name and my legacy and I did not blame you. Not after everything that has happened. I would not blame you if you told me now to leave you alone again, as you did that night..."

"You damned stubborn fool, Qui-Gon Jinn," I sigh, and my tone of voice startles him to silence. Well, I am no longer a young padawan afraid to challenge my master directly, nor a mature and disillusioned knight looking for someone to blame for everything. And I'm not about to listen to my master wallow in self-pity. "You heard me then, yet you never heard me apologize? You told me you'd always be with me; did you not know that I had forgiven you years ago, asked for forgiveness for the things I had said in anger?"

He looks away, and I do believe I have embarrassed him. "I...thought it better to leave you in peace. I didn't want to cause you more pain."

"I've had almost twenty years in solitude, to come to terms with the past, and I have. It doesn't matter now. None of it. I don't blame you for anything. You could blame me just as easily for failing in training Anakin—Force knows I have, time and time again."

"You did everything you could. I placed a burden on you that you weren't ready for, I manipulated your emotions when I should have—"

"Enough!" I snap. He looks at me dumbstruck, and I can only shake my head. "Enough of this. It's pointless. I can't believe this is how we're spending our reunion, arguing and moaning over who to blame for it all. Will you just come here and kiss me, dammit!"

He finally moves toward me, the shock fading to amusement with every step. When he touches my cheek I catch my breath, the feeling almost unbearable after so long.

His amusement finally grants me the rare sight of his smile. "You _have_ changed."

"I am a stubborn old man like you, with plenty of my own mistakes under my belt. Now kiss me, remind me how it felt to be young again."

And he does. And suddenly all of those years of waiting feel like nothing, a few hours, a blink of an eye. The taste of his lips is what I've thirsted for more than anything through the hottest days in the desert. Our bond so long withered and dormant flares alive once more, a thing of the Force and of love and _us_ , only us, not him nor me but _us_.

"Master."

"Padawan."

One simple word...how can he always say so much to me in that one word? I rest my head against his chest, the sound of his beating heart close to my ear. And what's this, tickling the back of my neck? Curious, I release my hold on him for a moment to investigate.

"What the—?"

You laugh as I step back in surprise, tugging at the braid which has mysteriously reappeared behind my ear. "Our spirits can take on any form we wish. It seems this is the one you choose...and I cannot say that I will complain."

" _You_ won't, but I always thought this looked rather foolish."

"You never look foolish, my beautiful Obi-Wan. Now come here."

Here. Yes, here is good, in his arms, savoring another kiss, and thinking about just how much catching up we have ahead of us. "Where is here, Master?"

"Anywhere you want it to be."

"Show me," I ask, and he pulls me tightly against his body, wrapping me in the familiar folds of his cloak.

"Where do you want to go, love?"

I think for a moment, and then smile, sharing an image with Qui-Gon through our reawakened bond. He laughs and says, "I should have guessed." A kiss to my forehead and he whispers, "Hold on."

Of course I will. It would take an entire army to pry me away from him now. And as I feel the world shifting around us, there is a strange sensation of falling, but I am not afraid. I know there is nothing to fear here...nothing to fear any longer at all.

 

_* end *_


End file.
